Refuge

Instruments of Crashing

You exit the car
face pressing past the glass

breaking the ice before you perform
the weightless dance of death

impromptu pirouettes 
your limbs are free from form

the car conducts the instruments of crashing

saxophones squeal as metal slides 
percussion plays on the pavement

trombones are moaning 
in the back seat 
cymbals circle in the smoke

flutes and clarinets bring it home
                  alternating pitch as they go

the audience sits silently in the shadows
no applause from their thin hands tonight

Another old poem for new followers

“And we’ll dance like cancer survivors..”